Loyalty
by jansonpls
Summary: Is loyalty really an absurd concept? Or is there something in it? One citizen of Deyer finds this out for himself one year after ANH, EU fic


-Set a year after ANH. EU fic, not movie fic. I don't own anyone or anything but my nameless OC. Wouldn't mind owning the, ah, "snot-nosed scruffy-haired kid" though. But not until he's ten years older. ;) 

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Loyalty? Who do I owe loyalty to? Some snot-nosed scruffy-haired kid who trashes my boat every time he's out swimming? Some wannabe politicians protesting against something half a galaxy away? Some teenage brat whose punk friends are running round the village all hours of the night? 

I don't owe anyone in this village anything. What have they done for me lately? Or ever? Nothing, that's what, nothing at all. They expect me out fishing every morning, struggling to catch enough for myself let alone them, and then they go buy their fish from the brat's family. 

Life was fine until about six months ago. I was getting on fine by myself, catching enough fish for food, and even some extra to trade in the market. Didn't bother no one, and no one bothered me. Everything was smooth. 

Then those Imperials came in, took over the village. They'd always been somewhere on planet, always in control of the system, but it didn't bother us here. Our village was small, out of the way... what did we care for galactic politics? We all were born here, lived here, and thought we'd all die here. That's just how it worked, or at least it did, until the Imperials came in. 

They said they'd heard something about some dissent, whatever that's supposed to mean; some uprising and protesting. I just thought they were being dramatic. I mean, protesters? Like I said, this is a simple village, and we have a simple life. We don't care about the galaxy and just as well, cause they sure as hell don't care about us. What was there for us to protest against? 

Sure, we heard news. We weren't that out of touch. I think it was a year ago? That planet they blew up, Alderaan or something. I didn't care; just as well, I figure, full of aristocrats and politicians, not that there's a difference. OK, some innocents as well, but what do I care? I don't know them. None of us did. It was just, oh what a shame, a tragedy, let's go out and fish some more. 

But some people got some ideas, see? When they heard about Alderaan, there were whispers and mutterings floating around the village. I ignored them all, or tried to, but they didn't dissipate after a couple days like most. It took me a while, but I figured out why that was; those wannabes, feeding the flame. Saying the Empire was to blame for Alderaan, saying the Empire was to blame for all our problems. 

What problems? That's what I figured; I didn't have any problems. My life didn't change when the Imperials took over the system... Sure, there was less food on the market, but who wants expensive imports anyway? Why pay for meat from Corellia when there's a perfectly good river right by my house? Plenty of fish; I like fish. 

But it got worse anyway, after just a couple more days. News came through about the Rebel Alliance, winning some battle. Some kid destroying a battle station. A battle station? What the hell does that mean? I ain't ever seen anything bigger than a YT-200, and I ain't ever gonna care, either. Space battles, Imperials, Rebels... what does it all _mean_ way out here, huh? Nothing is what it means. 

No, no, they thought it did. They thought we ought to get involved; we ought to protest against the Empire, support the Rebel's cause. The Empire killed innocents, they said, and the Rebels fought for freedom. Innocents? Freedom? I don't believe either of those exist, really, but tell me this - how many on that Death Star thing were guilty, huh? And if you ain't guilty, you're innocent, aren't you? 

As bad as each other, that's what I figured about the Imperials and the Rebels, and I didn't care who won this so-called "galactic war". Life hadn't changed for me and I figured it wouldn't no matter what happened. I wasn't going to protest against the people who controlled my life. They weren't doing a bad job, I figured; some imports trickled through to the market, taxes were lower than ever, and we could fish and eat as much as we wanted. 

Still they protested, though, shouting in the streets and converting the villagers. I asked them once, before the Imperials came into the village, asked them what they hoped to achieve from this futile protest. 

"Freedom," they told me, them and their kids, all shouting and waving signs. 

I almost laughed; how stupid they looked, how useless. "Absurd," I told them, "there's no such thing. Freedom from what?" 

"Opression," they told me, "evil. The darkness. Can't you feel it?" 

"I can't feel nothing," I told them, and walked away. Darkness, evil... as absurd as freedom, those concepts. No such thing. You live, you die, and if you're lucky it was good. Where does freedom or evil fit into that? Nowhere. 

Well, then the Imperials came in, like I said, trying to find the cause. They patrolled through the village day and night, searching for anything they could blame for it. The protests stopped, but not all of them, not entirely. The whispers returned, and the Imperials knew it, but no matter how they searched, they couldn't find the cause. 

I knew the cause, of course; I knew it was that family, right from the start. We all did, but we all stayed quiet. I don't know about everyone else, but for me, well, if I don't owe loyalty to anyone in my village then I sure as hell don't owe any loyalty to the Empire. 

But it wasn't just patrols and searches and questions. When the whispers didn't stop, when they kept on day and night among the villagers, the Imperials took some more action. Soon, the market was stopped. We couldn't trade with the other villages, or even with each other, and all because the whispers wouldn't stop. 

I like fish, sure, I love fish, but there's only so much I can stand. What with people coming to me trying to buy my food from me in secret, and not being able to buy anymore for myself... I'd had enough, see. You can only live on fish for so long before you have to do something, anything, to get things back the way they were. I liked my old life; I _didn't_ like this new one. Imperials in my village, day and night, is definitely not something I can put up with for long. It took me six months but in the end I figured it was worth it. 

My only loyalty is to myself, and if I have to betray someone else to make my life better, I'm gonna do it, you know? What are they to me? Just a snot-nosed brat, teenage punk and wannabe politicians. Couple years in prison would do them some good, I figured, sort them out. And make our village better at the same time. 

Took me an hour, the walk to and back from the Imperial HQ, and the best walk I've had in my life. Told them I knew who was behind the dissent, knew what they could do about it, and said I'd tell them if they guaranteed my quality of life. Sure, they said, tell us your little tale and we'll give you some bread and milk. Give us a name we can use, they said, and we'll give you more each day. 

Not what I was looking for but, I figured, better than nothing. And besides, getting them out of the village would stop the whispering, make me feel better. And maybe the Imperials would stop the patrols, too. But for bread every day, bread and milk I didn't have to trade my own fish for... that was enough for me, really. Couple years in prison for them, a better diet for me. I could deal with that, sure. Maybe. 

"Alright," I said as they sat laughing, "you promise me that bread and milk each day, and maybe some good meat import every now and then, I can tell you a name." 

They laughed again, grinned, and nodded. "Sure, then. Bread, milk, meat, for your betrayal." 

Somehow, hearing them say it made my conscience twinge. I don't know why - it's never done it before - but it did. "You take them to prison for a couple years, right? Maybe take the kids to that academy of yours?" 

"Kids? Sure, we can take them to the academy, then. It'll cost you your meat to assure that, though, little insurance there. Can't guarantee they won't end up with the parents in Kessel otherwise, you know what I'm saying?" 

Snot-nosed brat and teenage punk weren't worth my imported meat, but damn it, my conscience didn't like it. "Take it then. Make sure of it for me. It'll do those brats some good being in the military." 

And they laughed again. "You got a name, or are you going to sit and barter with us for it all day?" 

"Durron." 

That stopped the laughter, and as they stared at me, I knew they hadn't known it. Knew my information was good. The other villagers must have been covering or something, and whatever they'd done, it'd been good. The Imperials never would've figured out it was them if I hadn't told them. I liked that, knowing I was suddenly worth something to someone, but at the same time, my conscience was nagging at me again. I didn't like it. 

"Durron, you say? Definitely?" 

"For almost a year now, yeah." 

"Alright, the Empire appreciates your help in this matter, citizen. You'll get your milk and bread, and we'll get rid of this nasty problem in the village." 

"The kids to the academy, yeah?" 

I hate nasty, sneering smiles like that being directed at me. Patronizing, knowing, nasty grins. "Sure thing. Be on your way now." 

I was on my way. And true to their word, I got my bread and milk the next day, free of charge, but that's not all I got. When night fell - the darkness; how appropriately ironic - the stormtroopers came in again, and raided the Durrons' house. Just opposite from me, I saw it all from my window. 

They broke the door down, must have been at around evening meal, blasters in hand. From what I saw clearly, they stunned the adults and dragged them out, then grabbed the brats too. That teenage punk put up one hell of a struggle, I guess he's not a bad fighter, so they stunned him too. It was almost surreal, the gleaming white armour marching through the village late at night, carrying out the cause of so many problems in the village and all at once. 

This was something good, something I'd been waiting for for so long. Something that would put an end to the whispering, the raids, the patrols. But somehow... it didn't really seem that way at the time. They were stunned and helpless, the older kid too, and the younger one kicking and screaming at the trooper dragging him out. For the second time in as many days, my conscience was screaming at me just like the brat, and it made me get away from the window, open the door, see it closer. 

I don't know why and I don't know how, but after more than forty years of blissful, nag-free life, it took a snot-nosed brat to make my conscience start at me in force. But I still couldn't... do anything. I stood, watching what my betrayal had done, thinking what else it would do - tear that family apart. Who knew whether the kids would see their parents again after their prison sentence was up? 

The kid stopped screaming all of a sudden as the troopers passed me, and he looked right at me, right in my face. I saw him, his scruffy black hair and his dark eyes red from crying, face streaked with tears, and for the first time in seven years I didn't see a snot-nosed brat trashing my boats, trailing sand and water over my stall, stealing my fish... I just saw a kid, a little kid, whose life had been turned upside down, thrown to the ground and stamped on, all for the sake of a little bread and milk each day. 

My conscience didn't like me one bit. 

"Wait," I said, or tried to through my closed-up throat. "Don't..." 

But the troopers ignored me, carrying straight on past, and all I could do was watch. The kid's eyes stayed locked to mine, pleading through his snivelling to just _do_ something to help, but I couldn't. This was my fault, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it, and I just had to watch and deal with it. 

"Damn it, kid, I'm sorry..." And I was. For the first time in my life, I was truly sorry for something I'd done. But damned if sorry's make everything better cause they don't, no matter _how_ sorry you are. 

The next day, after everything... they all knew it was me. The whispering didn't stop, it just changed, and I didn't even get my bread and milk, either. Apparently, the Empire doesn't pay for information, it takes it and laughs at the fool that gives it so willingly, all for a little peace. 

I don't owe anyone any loyalty, least of all the Empire. No one at all, besides a snot-nosed brat in some far corner of the galaxy now, whose dark eyes plead with me every time I close my own. If I could take back what I did, undo the ruin, maybe I would, but I can't. I ruined that kid's life and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. 

Call me absurd, foolish, whatever you want - I would - but if there's anything I think I can do to make up for it, it's to get out of here and to the thing that started it all. Joining the Rebels and fighting for so-called freedom... it's an absurd concept, but in some twisted way, my conscience thinks it can make up for what I did. 

Galactic politics, I couldn't care less for, but if I think joining a bunch of freedom fighters can stop my conscience mourning a snot-nosed brat, I have to give it a try. 

So I'm out of here tomorrow... Sold my stuff for passage to Bespin, I heard there's someone there who can maybe help me out with some contacts. I'm actually doing it. Doing what I hated those Durrons for telling me to do, and doing it _for_ them, more's the ironic pity. Damn, the universe is twisted. I hate it. But I have to go with it, I guess. 

Loyalty and freedom, absurd... I'm fighting for them now, for loyalty that doesn't exist, and freedom that never will. For a kid I'll never see again, for people I've never seen in my life. 

Loyalty is an absurd concept. I don't get it. But I'm sure I will eventually... 


End file.
